The Last Kaua‘i ‘ō‘ō

I call for life, for you, ‘ō‘ō,

To, in feathered darkness, lay duet,

And quaver until the quivered solo.

I throw back my head to when we set

This sweet song as our matching tones,

With nectar leftover dropping gems on our nest.

At night—bites stolen—our cheeseboard—your home.

Scrambled atop a chair, to escape the yolk-spindled tails.

Dirt dwellers, debris, dark cavities in the corner.

Malformed russet brown, twin teeth like a pyre.

A heart waiting in the grass.  Rehearsed in pursuit, set

To that same voiceless choir.

A breath leaves the song, and gasps through to get

To that pleading warble.  An absence passes through

hands, to claws, to talons.  The song unmet

I call for you, for life, ‘ō‘ō,

Tender moulting mornings, no birdsong below,

‘ō‘ō, ‘ō‘ō, ‘ō‘ō